


Each Other

by pinkoptics



Series: Genoshan Husbands [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Erik is Soft, Erik is a Sweetheart, Genosha, M/M, Post-X-Men: Dark Phoenix (Movie), X-Men: Dark Phoenix (Movie) Spoilers, so soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:52:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19414075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkoptics/pseuds/pinkoptics
Summary: Emotional wounds take much longer to heal than physical ones, and Charles and Erik both have their fair share. However, Charles and Erik also have something now they never had before.A soft, hopeful, post Dark Phoenix ficlet.





	Each Other

Erik took the bottle gently from Charles’ limp hand.

Both the bottle, and Charles’ hand, had been dangling off the edge of the couch. Together they had defied gravity, for who knew how long, as Charles cradled the neck precariously between fore and middle finger. When he caught sight of the label, Erik flinched. Swill made right here in Genosha by a well meaning couple who lived not far from them. Having shared Charles’ expensive taste in scotch for decades, Erik knew exactly what this poor excuse for moonshine meant. There was only one finger left and Erik had no doubt that the bottle had been full when Charles had started. From the first sip, the goal had not been enjoyment, nor the mellowing of a rough day, no, the goal had been complete obliteration of all conscious thought, feeling. 

Erik placed the bottle carefully on the coffee table. The caution against noise was not needed, as very little was likely to wake Charles at this point. He perched himself, for a moment, on the edge of the couch cushion and rested his hand against Charles’ head, running his thumb across the temple, wishing he had Charles’ gift to impart peace. It was unfathomable to him what happened each day in the mind below his fingers, but even more unfathomable was how Charles endured it. Erik had slowly been gaining insight into what it truly meant to be Charles Xavier, as he not only let Charles in, but Charles let him in as well.

After a few moments, Erik leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Charles’ temple, as if any more pressure than that might cause him further pain. Leaving him there for the moment, Erik made his way to their bathroom. The medicine cabinet opened itself of its own accord and Erik scanned the labels therein. Slender fingers hovered between two bottles. Neither were regular or even extra strength. Painkillers on the market had been made for human minds and had no comprehension of the complexity and power of Charles’. Whatever the human mind experienced, Charles did ten-fold, and that unfortunately included pain. Erik was well acquainted with pain and there were very few upon whom he would wish Charles’ migraines. Given the rotgut he had consumed and the mental pain that would have triggered the desire for it, Erik’s fingers settled on the stronger of the two bottles.

His next stop was the kitchen, where he retrieved a tall glass and filled it with water. It was what little he could do, though he knew neither the pills nor the water would be enough for the hell Charles would experience when he woke up tomorrow. As he brought them to the night table to await consumption whenever Charles awoke, he found himself thinking back to the last time.

_“I pushed them, Erik. I pushed them all. To space— what was I...? To bloody, fucking space. I sat back, safely cocooned in my fucking mansion, thinking not of them, not of the risk they were taking, but of the press, the headlines - Xavier’s X-Men Save Astronauts in Heroic Space Rescue Mission - fuck. What happened to me? What happened? Who the fuck am I? Who the fuck did I think I was?”  
_

_As connected as they are now, Erik feels it as Charles re-lives it. Truly re-lives it with as much clarity as anyone could hope to re-live a memory. Charles’ gift is a double-edged sword. He could bring back Erik’s lost childhood memories— his mother, his father, their love. However, Charles was just as adept at bringing back his own memories, flagellating himself, scoring lines across his back as surely as any whip— Raven, Jean, the children, his X-Men._

_Erik feels the phantom frissons of excitement Charles had experienced as he imagined what a coo this would be for them, but really, for him. Bile reaches the back of his throat, disgust, not his own for Charles, never, but Charles’ disgust for himself._

_“No wonder Raven hated me in the end.”_

_A sob wracks his body.  
_

_“Jean didn’t kill her, Erik. I killed her. I killed my sister.”  
_

_Monster._

Even the recollection made Erik shudder. It was a word he was all too familiar with. One he had applied to himself many times. One he still felt lurked somewhere within. For all the good Charles saw in him, for all the good he could now even see in himself... given the right circumstances... well... However, it was never a word he would have associated with Charles, nor did he now. He had seen true evil in his life and Charles was far from it. He had lost his way, lost sight of what was most important perhaps, but a monster? No. Monsters did not care. Monsters did not hurt as Charles hurt now. 

_“It should have been me, Erik. I was there. I was right fucking there. I should have been the one to try to talk her down. It should have been me! I want it to be me!”_

Monsters did not wish to take the place of those they had hurt.

Erik made his way back to Charles, who in true passed out fashion had not moved an inch. Gently sliding one arm under his neck and another under his knees, Erik lifted him from the couch and cradled him against his chest as best he could— dead weight. Charles’ head lolled, lost in dreamless, thoughtless nothing.

Erik did not judge. He had, once, decades ago when Charles had traded his power for the use of his legs. At the time, that was what Erik had believed. He had not understood how any mutant could trade this vital part of themselves for anything. What was a mutant without their powers? Base. Human. Erik knew better now. It was not the use of his legs Charles had truly desired, it was the numbness, the inability to replay his own memories like a movie in his mind, the inability to have the trauma of others amplify his own.

Charles had sought to drown his trauma in a bottle, Erik had honed his into a lethal weapon. As far as coping mechanisms went... No, he could not judge.

Having reached the bed, their bed, Erik laid him within it. He tugged off Charles’ shoes and then, with difficulty, his jeans. The pillow looked a bit too flat, so he fluffed it and tucked another under Charles’ head, then rolled the man onto his side, just to be safe. The blanket remained around his ankles until Erik was ready to slide in beside him. He moulded Charles’ body to his and wrapped his arm around Charles’ torso, interlacing their fingers. 

Tomorrow would be difficult. Charles would be in pain, in every sort of pain there was - physical, mental and emotional. Already, an ache bloomed in Erik’s chest at the thought of it. He would see it, feel it, share it. This man that he loved beyond measure would hurt. 

However, they had something now. Something they had never had before. Something that would help them endure every moment like this one, every nightmare about Shaw, Jean, Magda and Nina, his mother, Raven. 

Each other. 

They had each other.

Together, they could endure it

**Author's Note:**

> Soft Erik is my jam now. Give me all of the fics of Erik taking care of Charles in Genosha.
> 
> All of them.


End file.
